Travis
I had never hated anyone as much as I hated myself at that moment. The only man I hated more was her goddamn stepfather. Afraid to touch her, I stood behind her as she splashed cold water on her face and chanted in a soft voice, "you're okay. Its okay. You're okay. Its okay."
With every 'ok', my chest felt like it was being ripped wide open.
My head had been telling me to stop. I was pushing for too much. But I couldn't stop touching her. She felt so fucking good. Seeing her face as I gave her pleasure was like crack. I wanted more and more of it.
I had scared her in the end, though. I was asking for too much.
By I wasn't will in to lose her. I'd do whatever the he she wanted me to. I just didn't want to lose her.
After what seemed like an eternity, she turned off the water and reached for a towel to dry her face. She took several deep breaths before dropping the towel and turning to face me.
I had started to apologize when her mouth puckered up into a pout, and then she burst into tears. Shit!
Without waiting for her, I pulled her into my arms. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if she was crying because of me and what I'd done or if she was crying because of her own reaction.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I got you. Its okay," I said, trying to soothe her. I hated the sobs that caused her body to shake in my arms.
"I'm so-o-o-or-ry," she cried loudly.
Fuck that. I picked her up, carried her to the bed, and sat down with her still in my arms. I leant against the headboard and held her like a baby, cuddling her to my chest.
"I told you not to apologize to me. Ever. Its me whose sorry, Blair."
She grabbed my T-shirt in her first and cried harder.
"I'm br-r-roo-o-k-ken," she sobbed.
"You do-o-on't ha-ave to se-e-ttle for br-r-r-ooo-ok-ken." She let out a loud wail, like she was mourning a death.
God, I swore, if I ever found the man who did this to her, he would pay.
I tucked her head under my chin and tightened my hold on her.
"You are perfect. So perfect that you take my breath away. I'm completely obsessed with you. You're all I see anymore, Blair. Nothing about you is broken. Please, don't let me ever hear you say that again. I want you to see yourself the way I do. This breathtaking beauty who has me so completely fascinated. She's a fighter. She's strong. She's fun, and she is kind and honest. She doesn't judge others. She accepts people for who they are. She doesn't expect anything, but gives beauty to the world around her freely. That is who I see, Blair. That's who you are. See that, too sweetheart. Please, see that, too."
Her crying dissolved into little hiccups, but her grip on my shirt only intensified. I watched SD she finally tilted her head back up to look at me with red, swollen eyes. Even now, she was still amazing.
"You think that.... About me?"
I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Yes, I do."
She started to say something, and her body tensed. I knew she was just now realizing that she was still topless. I shifted quickly, and pulled my shirt off, and slipped it over her body. I didn't want her to move. Not yet.
She helped by putting her arms through the holes. It was too big on her, bit seeing her covered up in my shirt stroked my possessive beast.
"Thankyou," she said, wrapping her arms around her stomach like she was cuddling with my shirt. I liked that, too.
"I asked for too much tonight. This was my fault. I will be more careful in the future. I swear, Blair, please don't stop trusting me," I said, needing her to believe me.
She frowned.
"You always asked me. I could have said no. It isn't your fault."
Oh but it was.
"Next time you want more, you will have to ask for it. I won't push again. I swear to you."
Then we would both know she wanted it.
She sighed and covered her face with both hands.
"I wish I wasn't like this."
I did, too. But for different reasons. I wished she had no nightmares in her psst. I hate that she suffers from something so horrific. Hell, I hate that she suffers at all.
"Will you hold me tonight while we sleep again?"
"You never have to ask that, Blair. The answer is always yes."
Late the next morning, I left Blair standing at the door wearing my shirt. It was the hardest thing I'd had to do. I didn't like leaving her. I wanted her with me.
"Wear my shirt at night. I like knowing that you have something of mine when I'm gone."
She nodded and let me kiss her before I took my duffel bag and headed back to California.
YOU ARE READING
Miss Me; When I'm Gone (editing)
RomanceTravis Miliani has always preferred the California ranch life, to his birth right as the son of a legendary rock star. In fact he rarely visits his father in Miami Place. Travis rarely stays in Miami Place anymore; especially if it means staying wit...
